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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715981">Sharpe's Farewell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorsetGirl/pseuds/DorsetGirl'>DorsetGirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Age of Sail - Fandom, Sharpe (TV), Sharpe - All Media Types, Sharpe Series - Bernard Cornwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age of Sail, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:21:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorsetGirl/pseuds/DorsetGirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sharpe dies of old age, in his bed, surrounded by family" (Bernard Cornwell)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sharpe's Farewell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><i>Sharpe's Farewell</i> is the heart of a longer piece, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29366829"><i>Filming Sharpe's Farewell</i></a>, which is currently available to members only as it's RPF, but I think it also functions OK as a stand-alone piece.</p><p>This fic was inspired by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534083">Sharpe’s Guide</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSiren/pseuds/InkSiren">InkSiren</a></p><p>Please note that although I'm using various scenes from the tv movies to invoke what Sharpe sees, this story is closer to book canon, in that Lucille does not die of a fever in about 1816 but lives a long and happy life in Normandy with Richard and is with him when he dies.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~ ~ ~ </p><p>Sharpe lay on what he knew was his deathbed. His chest still moved but every breath hurt, and he saw his own pain in the eyes of his family gathered round him. It wasn’t the worst way to go, he conceded. For years he’d expected, wanted even, to die with his boots on, either in a blaze of glory or just a piece of bad luck in yet another meaningless battle, but the God he had never been quite sure about had granted him his declining years in peace and happiness and modest prosperity. </p><p>This was probably better, he thought. It wouldn’t be long now.</p><p>At last the pain started to fade and he closed his eyes. Far away he heard a man start to sing and he smiled. Daniel Hagman, county of Cheshire. Poacher.</p><p>The song drew nearer but he knew it was himself, not the singer, that was moving. And then he was standing on a hillside while a column of men with familiar faces walked past him, all grinning as if pleased to see him back. They were wending their way up a steep track and with them, throwing him a big smile and a small salute, was a man he’d never thought to see again. </p><p>Patrick Harper. Still carrying the Nock volley gun that had saved them both more than once. </p><p>Ahead in the distance a stern-looking man turned his horse smartly to face Sharpe. As he watched Sharpe approach he removed his bicorne hat and held it to his chest. </p><p>Sharpe found he was holding his sword, and swept it up to the salute. “Your Grace,” he said automatically. The Peer nodded in acknowledgement and replaced his hat. “Good to have you with us again, Colonel Sharpe.”</p><p>Sharpe watched Wellington turn and ride ahead, then noticed a woman coming towards him, touching her hat to the Duke as they passed each other. The woman sat a fine bay neatly and was slung about with belts and weaponry. She watched him impassively for a moment then raised her pistol casually in salute and pushed her hat back so he could see her hair. The pistol went back in her belt, and now Sharpe saw that Patrick had left the column. He was standing up ahead next to Teresa, waiting. </p><p>Sharpe lowered his sword and sheathed it. Settling his jacket more comfortably around his shoulders he moved towards the head of the column, but at the last moment he stopped and looked back along the path and down into the shrouded valley. As if in a dream he could still see his family far away, Lucille bending to kiss the figure on the bed. </p><p>Suddenly Lucille raised her head and he started as she met his eyes, staring straight at him across the distance. She smiled through her tears and blew him a kiss, then made a shoo-ing gesture. “Go on,” she seemed to be saying, “they’re waiting. Go on and join them.” </p><p>Sharpe stood a moment longer, fixing her image in his mind, then he smiled slightly and turned to take his place at the head of the column, keeping pace easily as they climbed the mountain.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p>
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